So I started the night off not understanding anything anyone was saying. Could be due to the meds. Could be due to the fact that most of the other bloggers were British.
Seriously, how can we make it through the chaos without a gaggle of girlfriends? They are there for us in a variety of ways. Maybe not the same girlfriend every time, but a different one for a different need or a different chapter in our lives.
You remind me of some toxic chemical or maybe the flu. There’s no way anyone can like someone like you. I mean seriously, you spent your time spewing out hate…
Be careful over there! my American friends said to me. As if the Middle East is simply one big mosh pit of danger, mayhem and debris. Be careful doing what? I thought to myself. Choking on lobster, slipping on a marble floor, or poking my eye out with a canape skewer?
Cruising through streets and neighborhoods that we once loved reminiscing as we navigate our way through our own history. It’s about a trip down memory lane and fond memories. It’s about putting your hands on the wheel and feeling something familiar that grounds us to our past. Don’t take it personally, it’s not about you. It’s all about us.
They line up for miles to pick through the debris, of a once glamorous life like you see on TV. The sailboats, the yachts, the bubbly brunches and more; have been carefully chronicled on Facebook galore.
If Martha Stewart would’ve concentrated more on these tid-bits of information versus insider trading, I probably wouldn’t be in the pickle I am in tonight around the Lawrence of Arabia dining room table.